*Date: 33,480 Second Quarter - Chalice Theocracy, Ivory Gate Academy*
The alchemy lab smelled of copper and chamomile.
Aris stood over his workstation, hands trembling slightly as he prepared for his most ambitious brew yet. Tier 3 potions. The kind that could bridge the impossible gap between a Level 1 student and the academy's elite.
Fox sat on the counter, tail swishing nervously. "You're sure about this blood infusion technique on tier 3?"
"No," Aris admitted, carefully measuring powdered moonstone into a mortar. "But I'm out of options. Two wins today, then Sliver tomorrow. If I don't crack tier 3 tonight, I'm done."
The theory was sound. Or at least, the fragments he'd pieced together from restricted texts suggested it was. Blood carried essence. His blood, specifically, carried the potential of his hidden titles, his accumulated experience. A single drop, properly integrated, could amplify a potion's effectiveness up to tenfold, breaking its tier limits.
The risk was corruption. Unstable reactions. Or worse, detection.
"If the headmaster finds out..." Fox began.
"He won't." Aris's hands moved with practiced precision, grinding ingredients into fine powder. "The blood signature dissipates during consumption. All they'll see is enhanced performance."
"And if it doesn't work?"
Aris smiled grimly. "Then I lose to Sliver, get mocked out of the top 30, and spend the next year as everyone's punching bag." He paused, adding crushed silverleaf. "But at least I'll have tried."
The base mixture bubbled in the alembic. Swirling blues and golds, reacting to the heat of the conjured flame beneath. Aris watched the color shift, waiting for the precise moment.
"Now," he whispered.
His knife drew across his palm. A quick, shallow cut. Three drops of blood fell into the mixture.
The reaction was immediate.
The potion erupted in brilliant light, colors swirling faster, taking on a crimson sheen that pulsed like a heartbeat. The essence of blood merged with alchemical compounds, creating something new. Something dangerous.
Aris's hands moved frantically, adding stabilizers. Frost moss, ground pearl, a pinch of salt blessed under moonlight. The swirling slowed, the colors settling into a deep ruby red shot through with veins of gold.
"Did it work?" Fox asked, peering at the vial.
Aris carefully decanted the potion into three small bottles. The liquid seemed to glow from within, warm to the touch. "Only one way to find out."
He uncorked one vial and drank.
The effect hit like lightning.
His vision sharpened to crystalline clarity. Every muscle fiber sang with energy. His mind accelerated, thoughts racing faster than he'd ever experienced. The world seemed to slow around him, each second stretching into eternity.
And his mana, it surged, flooding his channels with power that made his tier 2 potions feel like water compared to wine.
"Aris?" Fox's voice seemed distant. "Your eyes are glowing."
Aris looked at his hands. Faint traceries of light ran beneath his skin, following his veins. "It worked. Fox, it actually worked."
The sensation faded after a minute, leaving him gasping but unhurt. The enhancement was temporary, maybe five minutes at full strength. But in a duel, five minutes was everything.
"You look insane," Fox observed. "In a 'might actually survive tomorrow' kind of way."
Aris carefully packed the remaining vials.
The next morning arrived with the weight of inevitability.
Aris's first duel was against a tier 2 physical fighter named Jerron. Competent but predictable. The blood-infused potion turned it into a slaughter. Aris moved faster than Jerron could track, his spells hitting with devastating precision. Victory in under two minutes.
Rank 32.
The second match, an hour later, faced him against a defensive caster. This time Aris relied on strategy over raw power, draining his opponent's stamina with carefully timed disruptions before finishing with Radiant Convergence.
Rank 31.
One win away from the top 30.
But between him and that goal stood Sliver Stoneflower.
The dueling arena was packed. Word had spread. The human upstart versus the Fae prodigy. Aris could feel the eyes on him as he walked to the ring. Most hostile. Some merely curious. Only Orric and Gumo cheered from the stands.
Sliver stood opposite, radiating confidence in her silver-trimmed robes. Her smile was sharp as broken glass. "Ready to be humiliated, human?"
Aris didn't respond. He was too busy centering himself, feeling the weight of the final blood potion in his pocket.
Rathvoss stepped between them. "Standard duel rules. First incapacitation or ring-out wins. No lethal force." His eyes met Aris's for just a moment. A flicker of something. Warning? Encouragement? "Begin!"
Aris downed the potion as he dodged left.
Power exploded through him.
The world crystallized into perfect clarity. Sliver's opening spell, a frost bolt, seemed to crawl through the air. He sidestepped easily, already casting Radiant Mark.
The mental attack struck her shield and shattered, but it bought him the second he needed.
"Radiant Convergence!"
The orb of light formed faster than ever before, his enhanced focus compressing the casting time by half. Missiles of pure radiant energy lanced toward Sliver.
She deflected the first two with a shimmering barrier, but the third grazed her shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Fast," she hissed. "But speed won't save you."
She began weaving a tier 2 spell. Complex hand movements, words of power in the old tongue. Aris recognized it: Frozen Chains, a binding spell that could immobilize for crucial seconds.
He wouldn't let her finish.
Flashing across the ring, his speed boosted beyond natural limits, Aris closed the distance. His shield, coated in his protective aura, slammed toward her casting hands.
Sliver twisted away, athletic despite being a caster. The spell broke, but she was already preparing another.
For the first time in months of dueling, Aris almost matched her speed.
They danced across the ring. Spell and counter-spell, attack and defense. Aris's enhanced reflexes let him predict her movements, dodge her strikes. But every spell she landed made him wince. Her power was immense, each impact like being struck with a hammer wrapped in ice.
A frost bolt caught his side. Pain exploded through his ribs, but the potion kept him moving.
Another spell, shards of ice, cut shallow wounds across his arms. Blood welled, but he ignored it.
"Radiant Convergence!" he shouted again, the orb reforming. Missiles peppered her defenses, forcing her back step by step.
She snarled and raised both hands. The air grew heavy, oppressive. Her mana surged, far more than a tier 2 spell required.
Tier 3.
"Holy Smite!" Her voice rang with power.
A pillar of golden-white light erupted from above, divine judgment made manifest. It descended toward Aris like the wrath of gods.
No time to dodge. No time to shield.
Only instinct.
Aris threw himself into a roll, his potion-enhanced speed carrying him just beyond the spell's center. The edge of the holy light clipped his shoulder, and agony unlike anything he'd experienced tore through him.
But something else happened too.
As the spell washed over him, his mind, accelerated by blood magic and desperation, saw its structure. Its weaving. Its fundamental pattern.
**[Bzzt! Skill Learned: Holy Smite (Tier 3)]**
"I was waiting for this. Best tier 3 spell inside Chalice's arsenal," Aris thought.
The notification flickered in his vision even as he crashed against the ring's edge, barely inside the boundary.
Sliver stood in the ring's center, breathing hard, certain of victory. "Stay down, human. You've lost."
Aris's body screamed in protest. The potion was fading, its effects waning. His stamina was nearly empty.
But he had one trick left.
Using every ounce of his remaining strength, Aris pushed himself upright. Now that his blood potion ran out, he started using Blood Initiate perks. Pulling every inch of strength from his body. Blood dripped from his shoulder, his arms, a dozen small wounds. But his hands were steady.
"My turn," he gasped.
Sliver's eyes widened in disbelief as Aris began the same hand movements she'd just used. The same words of power, pulled from the spell pattern he'd absorbed moments ago.
"No. You couldn't possibly..."
"HOLY SMITE!"
Golden light erupted from Aris's hands, raw and unrefined but undeniably tier 3. The pillar descended toward Sliver.
She reacted on instinct, her own hands weaving desperately. "Frozen Prison!"
Ice erupted from her hands in a giant burst, the defensive spell forming just as Holy Smite struck.
The two tier 3 spells collided with a sound like breaking crystal.
The impact shattered Sliver's ice prison, sending her flying backward. She hit the ground hard, sliding toward the ring's edge.
But the backlash of the frozen prison coated the whole ring, including Aris's feet, in thick ice. Already exhausted and hurt, Aris couldn't free his legs. His legs gave out. He collapsed forward, tumbling across the ring.
Both fighters went down.
Both slid toward opposite edges of the ring.
The arena fell silent.
Time seemed to freeze as both duelists lay partially outside the ring. Sliver unconscious inside the boundary, Aris conscious but equally disqualified.
Rathvoss stepped forward, examining the scene. His expression was unreadable.
"Simultaneous ring-out," he announced. "The duel is... a draw."
The arena erupted in confusion. Some cheered. Most booed. The Fae students screamed protests.
Aris lay there, unable to move, staring at the sky. A draw. After everything, a draw.
He'd matched Sliver's speed. Survived her tier 3 spell. Even learned and used it against her.
But he hadn't won. Only thing he did was knock her out of the rank 1 contest.
Rank 31. Still outside the top 30.
Orric and Gumo rushed to his side, helping him up. "That was incredible!" Orric said. "You cast a tier 3 spell!"
"Didn't matter," Aris muttered, leaning heavily on his friends. "Still lost."
Across the ring, Sliver was being helped up by her companions. She looked at him with an expression he'd never seen before. Not contempt, not amusement.
Hatred.
And perhaps a little fear.
As the crowd dispersed, still arguing about the outcome, Rathvoss approached. He spoke quietly, barely audible over the noise.
"Thirty-first is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially for someone like you." He stopped, then continued as if wanting to cover his slip. "Like someone who learned a tier 3 spell mid-combat." His eyes held that same knowing look. "Keep pushing, kid. You're closer than you think."
Aris nodded weakly, too exhausted to respond.
Back in the alchemy lab that night, Fox found him staring at his hands.
"You okay?" the familiar asked.
"I think I will stay and graduate from here. I still have too much to learn and advance. Without these advancements, if I am not strong enough, I can't search for a relic to restore Lyra's memories."
"Good call," Fox said.
Aris smiled faintly. "Besides, I learned Holy Smite. That's worth something."
"That's worth everything," Fox corrected. "You're the only human student with a tier 3 offensive spell. That changes things."
"Maybe," Aris said. "Maybe it does."